


March

by samtheboyking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samtheboyking/pseuds/samtheboyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Dean and Castiel love the month of March, for their own reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	March

**Author's Note:**

> This is two separate accounts of the same moment, meant to mirror one another.

Castiel loved spring most of all.

The receding night left traces of water droplets clinging to the grass, gleaming as the sun broke over the horizon. The soft light filtering through the window warranted no rush in the early hours of daybreak. There was an easy peacefulness to spring, the subtle, soft light dipping in and out of broken clouds, the low hum of nature reviving itself, awakening from the cold clutches of winter.

As the sun rose higher in those first few moments of dawn, light crept into the room, broken into shards by the shutters and dancing across the sheets in a pattern; and likewise over the skin of the man lying beside him. Castiel's hands were led by the light, skimming across the vast expanse of bare, warm flesh. His fingers lingered sometimes to smooth across freckles, or old scars, and all the while his movement was traced by those vibrant green eyes- eyes which echoed spring in all their warmth, the hope of a brighter day, signaled by the thawing of winter.

Castiel loved spring most of all, for these still morning moments of resting warm beneath the sheets, content in watching the light sweep over the man beside him in a languid glide, illuminating the form he had become so familiar with; a form which arched slowly, easily and without care, like lazy spring itself.

Such a contrast, Castiel thought, his eyes flicking over skin that reflected the days basking in sunlight, emitting such a warmth that seeped through his body, right to the bone.

It was an all-encompassing envelope, cradled in a caress and leaving behind evidence of its presence in the form of a curling joy within Castiel's chest. It was the whispered assurance of hope, hot against the shell of Castiel's ear. It was the unwavering trust evident when his eyes met Castiel's own.

It was spring.

And Castiel loved Spring most of all.

\---

Dean loved winter most of all.

The creeping day revealed traces of frost crawling from the grass, shining as the sun broke over the horizon. The subtle light seeping through the window was content to roll in slowly during the first hours of daybreak. There was a calm stillness to the winter, the weak, diffused light tucked away under sheets of cloud, the quiet whispering of nature hidden safely from the bright harshness of spring.

As the sun rose higher in those first few moments of dawn, light crept into the room, divided by the shutters into strips of shadow, sliding across the sheets and sinking into the skin of the man lying beside him. Dean's hands followed the lines of darkness, reaching over smooth, cool skin, fingers skimming along the intricate frame of bone beneath, rubbing over sharp dips and ridges, and all the while his movement was traced by those clear blue eyes- eyes which echoed winter in all their vastness, the promise of a purer day signaled by the delay of spring.

Dean loved winter most of all, for these still morning moments of resting cool beneath the sheets, content in watching the shadows slide over the man beside him in a smooth spread, a soft cloaking of the form he had become so familiar with; a form which remained still, calm and steadfast, like unflinching winter itself.

Such a contrast, Dean thought, his eyes studying skin that mirrored the days reveling in crisp air, casting out such a pull that drew him in and coiled around his body, burrowing into his soul.

It was an all-encompassing envelope, secured in an embrace and leaving behind evidence of its presence in the form of a steady beat within Dean's chest. It was the solid affirmation of resilience cool against the shell of Dean's ear. It was the indisputable faith evident when his eyes met Dean's own.

It was winter.

And Dean loved Winter most of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/Criticism appreciated.


End file.
